


Frustrations and Failures

by RedCatEye



Category: AEW, All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Humiliation, M/M, Set after Darby and Chris' match for the AEW championship, again i have no idea how to tag stuff, dom!Jimmy, sub!Darby, use of a riding crop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 15:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21148208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCatEye/pseuds/RedCatEye
Summary: Darby feels as if his world is crumbling around him. He doesn't want support, he doesn't want pity. He wants the only thing his body knows how to process:Pain





	Frustrations and Failures

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted from my tumblr: crimson-of-the-earth. If you wanna read my works a week before they're posted here of even make a request of your own, maybe consider dropping by my blog!
> 
> Now on with the fanfic!

It’s 2 AM when he finally gets the message.

  
He’d just gotten back from his match against Jericho, the championship had been so close and it would’ve been his if it wasn’t for Jake fucking Hager. It was already bad enough that Darby could barely defend himself with his hands taped behind his back, the loss adds to the sting and he just wants to find the nearest object and break it.

He was getting ready to just pass out on the hotel bed, not bothering to make sure his wrists are okay, when his phone pings for an unread message. At first, he just lays there on his bed, back turned towards his phone on the nightstand. He really doesn’t wanna talk to anyone for a while, especially if it’s someone offering him a ‘good job!’ message. He doesn’t think he did a good job, seeing as how he left empty-handed.

Another ping has him grumbling curses under his breath but he eventually checks his phone, his heart skipping a beat when he sees the message preview.

> **‘1 New Message from Jimmy:  
Don’t keep me waiting, boy.’**

Darby grabs his phone, almost dropping it, and opens his messages. The message Jimmy had sent earlier had been a simple room number and an obvious command.

> **Room 506. Don’t be late. -Jimmy**

He kicks off the sheets wrapped around his legs and runs to the bathroom for a quick shower and gets dressed in record time. He grabs his phone and his hotel card before darting out of his room, almost bumping into MJF.

“Whoa,” Max chuckles, and Darby resists the urge to punch him in the face. “What’s got you in such a hurry, skullface? ‘S there a sale at Hot Topic today?”

Darby ignores him and just continues to make his way to Jimmy’s room. Once he’s there, he raises a fist up to knock but stops to take a deep breath. He doesn’t wanna look like he’s desperate to do this.

Before he could actually knock, however, Jimmy opens the door, looking irritated as he stares at the younger wrestler. The way Jimmy’s looking at him makes Darby feel smaller and he tears his gaze away from the other man, feeling almost ashamed.

Jimmy grabs him by the collar of his black shirt and pulls him into his room, kicking the door shut before locking it. He keeps quiet as he leads Darby to the bed, pulling him by his shirt collar, all the while Darby remains silent. He feels nervous, he’s pretty sure this is a scene and he’s aware that he’s slipping into subspace, which Jimmy had explained is perfectly normal.

He just didn’t expect it would feel like this. He feels as if he’s floating, and the anxiety he feels starts to go away.

Jimmy pushes him to sit at the edge of the bed before pulling a chair closer for himself. He sits down, the serious look on his face making Darby look away.

But Jimmy has other plans in mind.

“Look at me.” He commands, his voice as intense as his gaze. Darby tries to comply but only manages to look at Jimmy for a few seconds before darting his eyes away.

He doesn’t get a moment to beat himself up for disobeying before Jimmy grabs him firmly by the jaw, the blonde whimper loud in the otherwise quiet hotel room.

“I said look at me, boy.”

There’s less venom in Jimmy’s voice than Darby expected. He’d expected him to be this excessively violent dom, like the ones he’s read about on forums about BDSM horror stories.

But he knows that Jimmy won’t hurt him. He knows that he has just as much, if not more than Jimmy does in this scene. It may have just been his imagination but he feels Jimmy’s thumb stroke at his cheek, and Darby snaps out of his reverie and finally looks at Jimmy.

“Quick rules,” Jimmy starts, and Darby nods his head once. “You don’t address me as anything but sir, got it?”

Darby nods again, feeling more and more drunk with each passing second. He takes deep breaths to try and stay in the moment, and he whines as Jimmy pulls his hand away to walk over to his bag. He keeps talking as he rifles through his belongings.

“You don’t speak unless I ask a question. When I ask a question, your replies should be a simple yes, no or straight to the point. If you’re unsure about something, you tell me right away.”

Darby can hear the sound of a zipper being closed, letting him know that Jimmy finally found the item he’s looking for. When he turns around to show Darby what he has, Darby’s jaw drops and a sheen of sweat immediately.

A roll of black tape.

“It’s not what you think it is.” Jimmy clarifies, stepping closer to Darby and offering it so the blonde can feel the difference in material. Sure enough, Darby can feel a major difference once his fingers touch the roll. It feels like soft latex and he shivers at the thought that this would be on his skin in some way.

Once Darby places his hand back on his lap, Jimmy goes back to his bag. This time, grabbing a pair of blunt-looking scissors and a simple riding crop from the side compartment. Did he plan this?

“Also, very important,” He goes to sit back in his chair in front of Darby, scissors and tape in hand, and that serious expression back on his face. “Have you decided on a safeword?”

Between AEW shows, filming vignettes for AEW’s Youtube channel and waiting for Jimmy’s response, Darby hasn’t had time to think of a safeword. His brow creases as he wracks his brain for a word he could use but comes up with nothing.

“I…” He trails off, his cheeks turning a nice shade of pink. “I don’t know.”

Jimmy raises an eyebrow. “I asked you a yes-or-no question, boy. You’ve already broken two rules with that answer. I’ll ask you again: Have you decided on a safeword?”

Darby straightens up, his hands in his lap for some reason. “No, sir.”

There’s a brief silence, and for a moment Darby worries that he may have disappointed him. Jimmy stands from his seat, and already Darby reaches out to to grab at Jimmy’s wrist. To his surprise, Jimmy just cards his fingers through Darby’s hair, massaging his scalp before pulling at the blonde strands. A breathy moan escapes the submissive’s lips, Jimmy’s lips curl into an interested grin.

He continues playing with Darby’s hair as he goes on with the rules, making sure to tug Darby’s hair firmly enough to keep him from dozing off.

“We’ll try the stoplight method, then. When I ask for your color, green means go, yellow means slow down and red means just stop. But since I’m gonna gag you anyway, you can either tap your collarbone or tap me multiple times and I’ll stop. Got it?”

Darby leans his hand against Jimmy’s stomach, almost drooling at the sensation of having his hair played with, but he responds with a breathy “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Jimmy chuckles menacingly, pulling Darby back by the hair as he bends by the waist to get on eye level with the sitting man. Darby’s eyes are completely hazy, he looks like he’s already out of it and they haven’t even started yet. “Let’s get started.”

There’s a glint in Jimmy’s eyes as he takes a length of the tape and cutting it with the scissors. He gestures for Darby to kneel down on the floor, and the American does as he’s told, kneeling down on the floor with his hands in his lap. Jimmy places the tape and scissors aside to place the soft tape over Darby’s mouth, effectively reducing his speech to nothing but pathetic whines and muffled noises.

He instructs Darby to take off his clothing with the exception of his underwear, which the blonde obeys quietly, folding his clothes neatly into a pile next to the bed.

Next, Jimmy binds Darby’s wrists together, not bothering to do so with the blonde’s hands behind him. That’d be humiliating. Last to be bound are his ankles, Jimmy allowing him to keep his socks on.

Now the real fun can begin.

Jimmy sits on the bed, crop gripped in his hand, as he gestures for Darby to come closer. And Darby complies without a word.

“You blew it tonight,” He tries to start lightly, he doesn’t want to take a risk and throw Darby into the deep end. But the way Darby ducks his head as he hisses these words, and he keeps an eye out in case Darby’s tapping out.

So far so good.

He leans forward, his elbows on his knees and with the meanest look on his face, and Darby instinctively leans away from him while still avoiding eye contact.

“You had the championship at your fingertips, and what did you do?” He knows that Darby can’t answer him but he knows that Darby’s too ashamed to admit his fault. 

“What did you do?!” He asks louder, sounding angrier, as he brings the riding crop down, the leather making a snapping sound as it connects with the bare flesh of Allin’s thigh, making Darby hiss in pain. The area where the crop landed already turning bright red.

The crop then strikes the slim man’s other thigh, Darby again trying not to cry out in pain. “Nothing!” Jimmy spits out, almost in disgust. With each word, he strikes the other man’s thighs.

“You-” _Whack! _“Did-”_ Whack! _**“NOTHING!”**

Darby’s thighs are the color of tomatoes after that onslaught, and Jimmy gives him a moment to take a breath. The corner of Darby’s eyes threaten to spill tears but the former skater refuses to cry. Jimmy places the tip of the riding crop under Darby’s chin and Darby follows the silent instruction, lifting his head up to look at Jimmy, who’s still on the bed.

“It’s okay to cry, boy,” It sounds degrading, but Darby knows that it’s Jimmy’s way of telling him that it’s okay to stop if it’s getting too much without breaking character. “I would cry too if I were in your position, being the worthless failure you are.”

Darby feels hazy from the throbbing pain in his thighs, the flesh so tender that the skin would most likely break if it takes another hit from the crop.

Jimmy clicks his tongue, another clear sign that he’s so disappointed. “Such a sad thing, really, to find out that it was just sheer luck that got you to that championship match.” He strikes Darby’s left arm, the flesh stinging once its hit. 

“Turns out you’re a failure in skateboarding and wrestling,” Another hit lands on his left forearm this time, welts beginning to form from the spots that were hit prior. “Maybe this is the only thing you’re good at,” _‘Whap!’_ This time at his chest, Jimmy being very careful not to hit Darby’s waist, bruising from his match with Jericho still prominent on his skin.

“Is that it?” Another hit to his chest. “Is that all you’re good for?” Another strike. “Wasting my time and being a good-for-thing failure?” And another. And another until Darby slumps over, his head bowed to hide the tears falling from his eyes.

But he can keep going. He can make him happy. He can make it up to him. And if it takes a hundreds of leashes across his skin, then so be it. Jimmy forcefully, raises Darby’s head, his gut-wrenching at the sight of him crying but he has to stay in character. He rips the tape from Allin’s mouth, no pain felt by the blonde which is why Jimmy loves bondage tape.

“I asked you a question, _boy_!” He spits out the last word with as much vitriol as he could, and he could hear a pathetic sob from Darby and he has to pretend that it disgusts him. 

“God, why do I even waste my time with garbage like you?” He slaps Darby’s face, though only his fingers landed on the other man’s cheek. Still, Darby throws his head to the side as if Jimmy had just hit him with all his strength. “You couldn’t even beat Chris Jericho at the peak of your career! You’re just fucking pathetic!”

Jimmy pushes him away, Darby stumbling back and falling on the carpeted floor with a soft ‘thud’. There, he tries to muffle his sobs as he taps at his collarbone. He has to, he’s heard enough. He can’t take any more.

As if a switch had just been flipped inside Jimmy, he quickly rushes over to Darby’s side, grabbing the safety scissors and throwing the crop aside. He cuts Darby free from his bindings and carries him to bed, wrapping him in warm blankets as he continuously strokes his blonde locks.

Darby clings on to him, still crying, and Jimmy’s there for him, never letting the younger man go even as he leans over to grab a bottle of water from the nightstand.

“Darby,” He calls softly, almost cooing, as he opens the water bottle and offering it to Darby. “Hey, hey, Darby, it’s alright. You did so well today, with your match and in the scene. It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?”  
  
Darby takes a small sip of water to stop his hiccups as Jimmy places random kisses on Darby’s cheeks, temple and forehead, the older man continues to reassure the man that he isn’t the failure that he thinks he is.

That’s what the scene was all about; For Darby to vent his frustration on losing one of the most important matches of his career, and to receive the punishment he thinks he deserves. 

Jimmy doesn’t leave Darby’s side for one second, holding the man close to his chest. 

“You’ll get another shot. I know you will. You’re too good to not be given another chance. You were amazing today, and you were so good for me. You took your punishment well, and you took more hits than last time.”

He cups both of Darby’s cheeks, and Darby looks at him, looking as if slowly coming down from his euphoric high. “I’m so proud of you.”

Darby cracks a small smile before laying his head back down on Jimmy’s chest, as he slowly but surely comes out of subspace and back to the real world. 

And thankfully, Jimmy is there to guide him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaahhh! I hope that was okay! It’s a bit too long, so I’m sorry for that! The original draft was longer so I had to cut some parts out! Anyway, thank you, anon, for a fun one to start with! I’ll try to get fill as many requests as I can this weekend!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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